


Apple Cider

by Saratonin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Baker Street, A pen can be a piece of art, Adoption, Babies, Birthday Cake, Birthdays, Creative Writing major, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Life at 221B Baker Street, Expensive gift, Feels, Fluff, Get ready for more feels, I suck at tagging, John and Sherlock are great parents, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mrs Hudson can sew, Mrs Hudson loves to make Penelope's birthday dresses, Mrs. Hudson - Freeform, Mycroft is a great uncle, POV Third Person, Parent!lock, Penelope at Uni, Penelope grows up, Penelope has an attitude, Penelope is smart, Sherlock and John are enamored with Penelope, Sherlock knows something Mycroft doesn’t, Watching Penelope grow is hard for John and Sherlock, all the feels, best gift ever, purple was her favorite color, softieSherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-07 16:45:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8808346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saratonin/pseuds/Saratonin
Summary: Emotions aren't John Watson's area, so when he has an announcement to make, he needs creativity. He decides to have some fun with tonight’s dinner.





	1. Chapter 1

John got the call from the agency that morning. They’d hoped to find out together, but Sherlock was sleeping off their most recent case. No one could sleep 18 hours straight better than Sherlock Holmes.

John had first realized Sherlock would make a good dad when he couldn’t resist playing with their friend Marla’s son, Fred. Her boy was three and curious about Billy the skull. At first, Sherlock just gave a simple explanation. But then Fred kept asking about things, and something glorious happened. A toddler found someone who didn’t mind all his questions. And Sherlock found someone who’d listen to all his answers.

John decided on a special menu for dinner. He prepared baby back ribs, with baby carrots, and baby corn. He lit three candles, two tall and one short, and welcomed his husband to the table when he finally woke.

As Sherlock looked over the meal, his stomach declared loudly that it was ready and excited. When he discovered that his glass of sparkling wine was in fact apple cider, he cast an inquisitive glance at his partner.

“Well," John began in response to the unspoken question, "one can’t drink when one is...”

He couldn't finish his sentence around the lump in his throat. Sherlock glanced at the third, shorter, candle and back up to his husband. The tears filling Sherlock's eyes told him he didn't have to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to englandwouldfalljohn (TheLadyAmalthea) for being my awesome beta.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Creating a registry may be a boring thing, but it's quite necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta, englandwouldfalljohn (TheLadyAmalthea), has been crazy busy lately. She deserves all good things to come to her (do you hear that, Moftiss! Give us Johnlock!).

“Sherlock, will you please pay attention?”

“That woman’s baby isn’t her husband’s. Look at the way she is leaning away from him, she doesn’t look him in the eye, and the hair on her coat isn’t his. How has he missed that?”

John mumbled, “Maybe he’s blind to it. Maybe he doesn’t care. Really Sherlock!” he demanded in an exasperated tone, “We need to get this done before the shower.”

“Dull.”

“You won’t think it’s dull when you have the proper furniture and clothing for the baby. I’ll even let you have the scanner.”

“Fine. What does one get for a baby,” he asked, waving the hand now holding the device.

“Well. They need a place to sleep. We need a rocking chair, a changing table, all the clothes, bath tub…”

Sherlock followed John through the store scanning bar codes on whatever John wanted. He didn't care about the “color scheme” or other boring things, but he thought it sweet that John cared. He knew that John would be the best father. That for once he needn't be the expert - John would teach him to change a nappy, feed the baby, things like that.

“Nappies,” John exclaimed, startling Sherlock out of his reverie.

“You’re too young for nappies, John.”

“For the baby you tit.”

“Ah, yes. Well, whatever you want dear.”

“We’re going cloth, we’ll get a service. Do you like these pink ones, or these purple ones?”

“As long our daughter doesn’t poop on any of our furniture, I don’t care.”

John stopped what he was doing and looked at Sherlock. “Our daughter.” A large smile spread across his face, reflecting in his eyes. On only one other occasion had John ever been so happy uttering two simple words.

Sherlock saw the joy in John’s face. “Our daughter,” he whispered, echoing John’s feelings.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends and family celebrate with John and Sherlock.

The sound of a cork popping out of the champagne bottle greeted the crowd of friends and family gathered was in the first-floor flat at 221B to celebrate the soon-to-be-arriving daughter of Sherlock and John Watson-Holmes. The flat was decorated with pink balloons and streamers. A banner over the fireplace read “Congratulations,” while another over the door read “It’s a Girl.” A stack of pink and purple-wrapped gifts sat on the coffee table. The birth mother, Stephanie, was due any day, and John and Sherlock had both started checking their phones compulsively.

John was distracted during the opening of the champagne and was startled by the loud pop. He looked up from his phone and was greeted by smiles from Greg and Molly.

“You and Sherlock are going to drive your friends from this party if you don’t keep your noses out of your phones,” Mrs. Hudson quipped as she carried glasses to Mr. and Mrs. Holmes.

“Can it just be Mycroft that goes?” Sherlock asked no one and everyone simultaneously. Mycroft rolled his eyes in response, and Mrs. Holmes tsk’d.

“Everyone!” John exclaimed as he took a glass from Mrs. Hudson, “I would like to make a toast.” The room quieted down and everyone turned toward Sherlock and John, who now stood near the fireplace.

“It took many years for me to realize what mattered most in life. It took several more for me to get over myself and admit out loud, to this beautiful man, that I loved him. Sherlock and I knew that we wanted kids shortly after getting married. Due to the impossibility of two men creating a baby alone, it took money, and a whole lot of patience before we heard the word ‘baby.’ It is our greatest joy, and strongest fear, to bring a child into this world. But thanks to the support of everyone in this room, we believe that we can rise to the challenge. To friends and family.”

“To friends and family,” the crowd returned.

“What’s her name,” Molly asked the couple, not for the first time.

“We’ll tell you after we tell her. You’re lucky you know she’s a she,” John replied before Sherlock could. He hadn’t been as patient with the question as John had.

John and Sherlock’s phones simultaneously chimed, and the earth stood still.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She makes her entrance and we learn their name for her.

They stood in the recovery room with Stephanie in the bed napping. John held Penelope in his arms and was swaying back and forth. Sherlock, intent on capturing as many moments as he could, had in hand an obscenely expensive camera which he had of course (rather unconvincingly) denied purchasing for precisely this occasion. John, for his part, simply couldn’t stop smiling, which made for a perfect video that Gran and Grandad Holmes could enjoy later.

“Penny?” Sherlock asked, raising a critical eyebrow. “You want to name her after the lowest denomination of currency?”

“I think it’s an adorable nickname,” John replied in a stage whisper. He didn’t want to risk waking her from her nap.

“Instead of us making a big decision for her, we could call her Penelope and give her the job of selecting her own nickname when she’s older,” Sherlock countered. His partner grunted his acquiescence.

_____________________

John and Sherlock lay face down in bed, their energy sapped by a cute little pink bundle of love. They’d been laying down for only thirty minutes when they heard a small cry from the bassinet near their bed.

At first they’d thought her cries were cute.

“She sounds like a tiny dinosaur,” Sherlock said once.

“A baby raptor, in fact,” John replied.

They were experiencing love in a new way. Neither of them had realized they could feel something so big for someone so small.

“It sounds more like a screech now doesn’t it,” John whined. “No one has ever simultaneously been as intensely miserable and unfathomably happy as I am in this moment.”

“I’m considerably sure that that’s not the case.”

________________________

She cooed at Mycroft. 

“Why does she like my brother?”

“She must see things that we don’t.”

Mycroft leered at the fathers. “Bugger off, she just knows how to find someone who’ll love her without disciplining her.” John and Sherlock shared a look and rolled their eyes.

John whispered, “More like she’s already manipulating the Holmes that runs the government.” They giggled.

“Mycroft, she’s just six weeks old. She’s not quite that discerning,” his brother admonished.

“She will be though? Won’t she,” Mycroft said in the involuntarily high voice of someone talking to a baby. “Uncle Mycroft will make sure of it.”

Sherlock looked stunned and John laughed out loud in surprise. Who knew that the most stoic Holmes would be such a softie at the sight of a baby?

“I wouldn’t be,” Mycroft said, reading John’s mind, “but this is my niece.”

John hated it when the brothers read his mind. It was infuriating. He grabbed his baby and, this time, let his brother-in-law see the eye roll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major thanks for my beta englandwouldfalljohn(theladyamalthea) for taking care of this for me. I've finished writing this and have ended after 6 chapters. They need to be beta'd and that finished by me. I'm a student with a job, so who knows when that'll be.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebrating Penelope's birthdays

1 Year Old

“It’s called a smash cake. It’s an American tradition that the UK is adopting. It’s adorable.” Sherlock loved it when he got to explain things to Mycroft. It made him feel superior, and that was not something that happened very often.

“Her dress will be ruined,” Mycroft insisted in a scandalized tone. “Think of that gorgeous dress Mrs. Hudson made her. That tulle won’t hold up against purple frosting.”

“The clothes come off, brother,” Sherlock said as if it were the simplest of answers, and therefore one that Mycroft should have already deduced.

John came into the kitchen with Penelope, who’d woken from her morning nap all smiles, dressed in her purple dress, white tights, and shiny black Mary Janes. “She wouldn’t have the bow in her hair.”

Mycroft snatched her out of John’s arms before Sherlock could. “That’s because she knows that bows are only an outdated way to differentiate between boys and girls. And her pretty dress already does that anyway,” Mycroft added, cooing.

John and Sherlock rolled their eyes at each other. The guests started arriving, and the afternoon was spent loving on their precious daughter as long as they could before she fell asleep in Gran’s arms.

5 Years Old

“Papa! Look at the dress that Nana made!”

John gazed down at Penelope as she bounded into the kitchen where he was putting finishing touches on the refreshments. Tears threatened to escape when he saw his already beautiful daughter smile as brightly as she ever had.

“It’s a very pretty dress, isn’t it?” She stared at him with her big eyes, silently pleading for his approval.

“The dress is spectacular, darling. But you are more so.” Her face lit up at John’s praise and she ran from the room.

Sherlock entered the kitchen as she whizzed out. “Be careful, love. We can’t have you scuffing your shoes before the party,” he called after her.

John and Sherlock shared a look full of emotion. Neither of them could believe their baby was so big.

10 Years Old

“Please wear the dress that Nana made. It’s been a tradition for the last ten years,” Sherlock implored. His daughter rolled her eyes. “When did you start with the attitude?!” 

“Daddy, the dress is purple. I don’t like purple.”

“Since when do you not like purple?”

“Since Kate’s dress was blue and yellow at her party last month.”

Sherlock took a breath to steady himself. “Are you Kate?”

She sighed. “No daddy.”

“Am I Kate’s -?”

Seeing where this was going she rolled her eyes and cut him off. “Daddy, you and Nana are mine not hers. But I like blue and yellow.”

Sherlock loved it when Penelope could see through him despite her young age and annoying attitude. “Your purple dress is already made and it looks resplendent on you. Wear it this year, and next year we’ll make sure you’re consulted before the dress is made.” She considered this suggestion and accepted it with a shrug before leaving the kitchen. Sherlock sighed heavily and realized that she’d entered the time in her life they (whomever “they” were) called “tween.” He wasn’t ready for the years to come when he would have to argue with her more and try harder to convince her of things.

John stood in the doorway and smiled at his husband. “You diffused that quite well, love.”

“Thank you, dear. Now come over and separate the blue and yellow candles out of the box so we can use those instead of the pink and purple.” John smiled at Sherlock’s genius way of giving her daughter what she wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's one more chapter, that this one sets up. I cried a tiny bit while reading it. This one I felt proud of, and loved the characters. I love Penelope's vibrancy, and Sherlock and John's deep love for their daughter. It all comes together in chapter 6 and, dude. ALL THE FEELS.
> 
> As always, thank you to my incomparable beta englandwouldfalljohn(theladyamalthea) without whom, I would not have such quality writing (seriously, she's the bomb).


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A birthday gift to end all birthday gifts.

20 Years Old

Pen’s laptop sang the song of a video call. She knew her parents were on the other end. They hated that she was away at the University of Birmingham for her birthday; it was harder on them than it was on her. Not surprising, she thought, since parents hated their children leaving home. One would have thought that Papa would have had a harder time. But it was actually Daddy that did. The man formerly known as a “high-functioning sociopath” had to stop calling himself that after enough people saw how much he loved his daughter.

She got off her bed and walked over to her desk. She’d been expecting the call, so she was dressed and had shooed her roommate out, for privacy.

“Hello Papa, hello Dad.” She greeted them affectionately.

“Happy birthday, darling,” said Sherlock, while at the same time John exclaimed, “Happy birthday, love.” Pen laughed. She does love her dad’s, but sometimes she doesn’t want the love vomit to come out with her roommate there.

“Thank you.” She rewarded their greeting by showing them her biggest smile, as they both peppered her with questions.

“Slow down,” she sighed. Her dads could be so eager. “I’m doing fine. Classes are hard but going well. Jack is great, his psych internship is playing out nicely. For my birthday I’m going to study, eat lunch at the cafeteria, go to class, study, and then out for dinner with friends.”

John sighed while Sherlock huffed. “That’s no way to spend a birthday.”

“Well Dad, I can’t very well put on a purple tulle dress and black Mary Janes and spend the day at 221B if I’m going to stay in the Honnors Programme, now can I?” Pen loved it when she used logic against her parents.

“You’re a very good student and daughter, you know that right?” John asked.

“It’s hard not to when you tell me so often.” Pen reached off camera and grabbed a package. “Can I open this now?”

Sherlock’s eyes lit up. “Yes, please do, Penelope.”

“Call me Pen, Daddy.”

“I’ll call you Penelope. Pen is a tool for writing.” She rolled her eyes, but her mouth pulled into a half smile at her father’s insistence on using her full name. He was particular about some things, that always having been one of them. She heard that Papa once wanted to use the nickname Penny. She thought that was ok, but it never happened. Apparently, Dad had been against it from the beginning.

She opened the box to find a very well wrapped gift with blue and yellow paper and bows. She laughed at the sight of the colors she had once demanded. Inside the wrapping was a thin, wide box. One that a nice watch or bracelet would come in. She wasn’t much for fine jewelry and she hoped they knew that about her. She opened the plush box to find the most beautiful pen she’d ever seen: the Mont Blanc Meisterstuck Doue Fountain Pen that she’d been pining over. She had thought that owning one was a pipe dream. Engraved on it was, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” It was her favorite quote by the incomparable Maya Angelou.

She brought her hand to her chest and couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down her cheeks. Never had her parents given her a gift like this. She’d always gotten something she wanted, but this one touched her heart in a profound way. As a student of creative writing, she’d always loved the art of the pen. She had become a bit of a collector, too. She had so many that the collection was now spread across her room at 221B, her dorm room, and Uncles Mycroft and Greg’s house. Even Nana had some in her flat.

“How?” she whispered

“Mycroft,” Sherlock replied quietly, not wanting to break the mood.

“Of course.” It might be a little creepy that her uncle knew her search history. But maybe it was only because she’d been ogling this item for so long that it stood out. He was probably keep an eye out for predators anyway; he was very protective of his niece. She had the government of England at her beck and call if she needed it.

Pen had never been able to find a price for this piece of art. (She couldn’t call it a pen. That word failed it.). The websites all said “Contact us for a quote.”

“But how?”

“Mycroft, Nana, Uncle Greg, Aunt Molly, and us. It’s a present from all of us,” John explained. “We all know you’re going to write the world’s greatest novel. This is our way of showing you how confident we are in your abilities. All of us know that with your knowledge, your talent, and your command of the pen, you will go far. We want you to gaze on this gift every day and remember that we are behind you every step of the way.” 

She regarded her dads and knew that no person on earth had better parents than her.

John and Sherlock continued talking to her, but they mostly got “uh huh” and “mm hmm” as responses. Penelope was too distracted making love to the pen with her eyes as she gently rubbed her thumb over the quote. “Happy birthday, darling,” Sherlock said.

“Be a good girl tonight, be safe,” John implored.

“Bye dads. I love you,” she barely replied.

John and Sherlock hung up and sat there silently. A few long moments later, John glanced over at his husband of 24 years. They’d certainly been through many things in their life together. “The best thing we have ever done was Penelope.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had fun writing this. I would like to try some Johnlock porn at some point. Thanks, again, to my fantastic beta englandwouldfalljohn(theladyamalthea) for your thorough and chapter-changing work.


End file.
